Priorities…My goal for today was to clean the house before my mother in law comes to visit tomorrow. Not a lot to do, just dust, sweep, wash and vacuum the floors. Okay, so that is a lot of work… So I spend the first three hours of my day, rearranging the pantry, followed by another hour completing cleaning the fridge. I then decided to condition the leather couches. This was followed by reorganizing the closet and drawers in the bathroom. Then I decided that I needed houseplants (they rarely stay alive, but I should be able to manage 5 days…so this dictated a trip to home depot to check out the indoor houseplants. I would have tried a classy place like Bachmans, but had wasted too much time reorganizing the hidden spaces of my house and now they were closed. Came home with two lovely orchids…
It’s ridiculous, because now I will spend the next 4 hours (likely until midnight) completing the simple-quick clean that I’d planned. I don’t have a monster of a mother in law. It’s doubtful that she would have gasped at the larger cans of beans stacked upon small cans of corn in the cupboard. I don’t think that she would have cried out in fright at the site of yogurt 4 DAYS PAST EXPIRATION in my fridge. Apparently, according to the husband, She might react with fear to the cobwebs clinging to the skylights upstairs-(thanks to quick thinking, impulse shopping and a cobweb attachment for a telescoping pole this is no longer a concern.) Next time, I think I will just need to hire a maid…
I think that the dentist is the great equalizer. Everybody has to go to the dentist. Famous people, politicians, the president-they have to go into the dentist, lay back in a chair with a blinding light in their eye, and try to answer mundane questions about their lives while someone’s hands are inside their mouth.
Earlier this week, I had the great fortune to go to the dentist to have a crown and several fillings replaced. (my teeth are very PRETTY right now.) To prepare for the crown, I spent several week trying to bleach coffee stains out of them-which by the way, irritates your gums so that you bleed more during the dental procedure. (this can be a warning-or an evil revenge strategy for passive-aggressive dentist haters.) I realized that the whitening may have been a mistake when I developed a strange mouth rash (lovely…)
Now, I like my dentist, and think that he does a wonderful job, but for some reason , at this visit I was struck by the absurdity of it all. To begin with, I sat with three gigantic cotton swabs of topical pain reliever sticking out of my mouth for several minutes as I politely made small talk with the hygienist. (not complaining about the pain relievers by the way…) This was followed by several painful shots of Novocain into the upper gum tissue-what a great excuse for a vacation from work!
I’m a self admitted dork, so it was no surprise to me, that the dentist walked into find my stroking my upper gums with my index finger. (it was only numb in the front of the teeth-so I couldn’t feel where my finger was touching, but could feel it on the inside gums FREAKY!!) This was followed by what appeared to be a major demolition project on my teeth. There was grinding of metal against the teeth bones (no pain) and squirts of a misplaced water shooter thingy hitting my legs during the tooth annihilation. And to make it better, every time I had to turn my head to allow better access to the decay, I could feel my drool sliding down my arm. (this is where I started to picture different celebrities in the position as was I.)
My crowning moment of glory came towards the end of the visit, when I was asked to swish the water around in my mouth for a bit and then spit. But because of the highly numbed upper lip, I had no control…. A mini geyser began to burst forth from my lips. Which made me start laughing-so that even more of the water began burbling out…And the hygienist frantically looking for the suction tube made me laugh even harder…
So I am going to spend the next week thinking of famous people going to the dentist and laughing quietly-and without water spouting from my lips-to myself.
I have been attending the same cardio dance class for the last year. I refer to it as my stripper dancing class-due to the variety of hip grinding, booty shaking moves that are involved. And during the class I feel HOT! I am a sexy woman who is shaking her stuff for all to see! (or at least the poor souls, who happen to look in… ) I have even thought that I should adopt some type of club lifestyle, where I could practice all my sexy dances I have learned. Until today…. Until the mirror…. Because usually, I am at the back of the class, and though I have tried to glimpse a view of my goddess self-I am hampered by the lovely woman in front of me. But TODAY, I was lucky, I got in early enough to get a prime spot RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR. In fact so lucky that I was the only one I could see in the mirror.
At the beginning of the class, watching myself in the mirror was a VERY LONG 15 minutes. The fifteen minutes where I realized that I am much more likely to be featured in a Saturday Night Live Skit than any current music video. I have no rhythm and my scrawny ankles look ridiculous protruding from my Capri black leggings! But it’s okay, because I still have a powerful tool, SELF DELUSION. When I look at the best dancers in the class, this is who I become-moving fluidly, seductively through the moves of the class.
Why is it that every theme on the Maury show revolves around “Are you my baby’s Daddy?” It’s likely that this show alone, supports the entire DNA industry. I was at the gym several weeks ago, listening to my IPOD and watching the antics on the show. What I found interesting, was that if the man turned out to be the father, that resulted in the woman doing a “Touchdown” Celebratory Dance in front of the man. Now the dance appears to be composed of several parts. Raising your hands slowly in the air while gyrating your upper body in a circle, pointing to the man in a rhythmical fashion while uttering things like, “oh yeah, oh yeah-it’s your baby, it’s your baby.” This seemed to be generally followed by the woman doing some booty shaking in the man’s face.
It’s certainly an interesting response to finding out your baby’s paternity. So I thought what if we started doing celebration booty shaking dances for everything? How fun could that be? Imagine, waiting in line at Target to return some clothing. When your return is accepted, you can then prance in front of the other store patrons, shaking your booty at them and chanting “oh yeah, oh yeah, I got my money back, oh yeah-you know it.”
Or if you pick the fast lane at the grocery store, why not enjoy yourself all the more by taunting the other shoppers? You could wave your hand over your hand, lean backwards and do the shimmy.
Certainly, it would be more fun at work if after getting your work finished, you could shake your heiney in your bosses’ face.
